You’re how old?

Every now and then I get a reminder of how old I am. It could be a memory that pops up on social media (today I had one from 10 years ago … I still wear the same scarf!) or meeting friends from the past. Sometimes it’s a good flashback and others it’s like a slap in the face. Pow. You’re old.

Yesterday we went to an event in Vaughan. It was a food celebration for the Italian Chefs Association. When we arrived we found our table. Already seated were former colleagues; one couple brought their teenage kids. I could not believe the size of the kids. I mean want it just yesterday their mom was huge with them in her tummy? Now they are learning to drive and voices changing. They converse rather than spit and gurgle. They hold smart phones instead of rattles and plush toys. The son plays football. The daughter is in dance. I was in a time warp.

The other couple at the table was even worse. I ask how the kids are. I know their grown and on their own completing or completed post secondary. Oh, says the woman, our daughters getting married. This spring. What?? I was just at her birth at St Joes in Toronto!! Married?? Yes. She’s 24 and her fiancée is 26. They are Christian and met at church. They are ready. Wow. I’m in shock.

Until I realize I got married at 24 too. 31 years ago. Yikes. I’m old.

I think the biggest age definer is hanging out with my folks. I feel like the adult in the room. My parents are now my kids and the roles have completely reversed. I mentioned to Rudy the other day that my days of asking my mom for advice are over. That makes me kind of sad. I can still talk to my dad about some things but I’m finding that their brain works differently. Not just slower but also more rigid. Once they lock onto a notion it’s impossible to move away.

I’m heading to their place today. Tomorrow is a social outing put on by Alzheimer’s Society. It’s a cooking class followed by lunch. Hopefully mom will know a few people and have a chance to chat. Her isolation is always on my mind. She used to be the one to organize our events and outings. No more. I asked dad to join us. Not a chance. He’s weird that way.

I guess I’m in what we call middle age. Old above and young below. Funny how I still feel young. That’s also what my dad says.

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